Category: Mothering

Rearview Fridays: Knitted Easter Eggs

After a long week full of cold days and soul searching, I emerge today to acknowledge my blog for the week. I try to write here 3 times per week and more often accomplish 2 entries, but life got the better of me and my time! And every time I tried to formulate an entry, I had nothing and everything to write about. So I waited.

The weather got really cold again, driving us back under big comforters and I felt the impulse to hibernate — truly. Every moment possible I slept, deeply. Whenever a kid slept, there I was! It was awesome really. Disorienting, plan changing, but so good. I still only get a max of 3 hours at a time with a nursing baby at my side, so I do have big, sexy fantasies of 8 hours of uninterrupted, blissful, needtopee-free sleep, alone in a huge bed of course … sigh … and then I shake myself and wonder if I could even do it if it was possible, honestly I’d probably make a craft instead if I had that kind of time!

My Knitted Easter Eggs in a backyard tree, enjoying the burning-off of spring frost in the morning sun. And a door to ... somewhere?! (We're doing some construction)

As for the soul search part, I formally resigned from my work as a managing editor. I won’t return there after my maternity leave. It was time. There was a lot of consideration and I feel truly solid in my decision. But I’m leaving a secure place to land and a known quantity that’s been a part of my life in various forms for the past 10 years. And I’m walking towards an Autumn of mothering with my (paid)work committed to the development of my independent sewing business. I’m giving this working-from-home thing a shot at last.  And I’m very excited!

And for your Reaview Fridays pleasure I present Knitted Easter Eggs! I made them through the late winter of 2009 as my Rudi approached his first birthday. And, bless my ambitious heart, I made one for everyone who attended his first birthday party! I was left with 9 that I use every year now to make an Easter Tree, a weird but beautiful decoration that I feel attached to from childhood. I used this lovely, easy pattern from Lonie May. I think I added a row or 2 to the middles as I like a nice long-bodied egg, made hanging loops and added colours to create patterns. Here they are with some of their real brothers from an Ontario farm:

Cheers to change and bravery and possibility. And to Fridays! Happy weekend.

Rearview Friday: Costume Dolls

I was talking about dolls with a friend last night and my mind wandered in it’s dusty reaches to recall some of the dolls I’ve made in the past. I think it’s time to share these little ladies for today’s Rearview Friday!

I made them, wee versions of us, as a gift for my co-choreographer Lindsay Zier-Vogel on the premiere of our dance work Edith and Eliza in the spring of 2006. The dolls are based on Waldorf dolls (that’s right I was a Waldorf kid! And I have a deep sentimental fondness for these little dolls with the simple faces). If you want to know more about Waldorf dolls, I found a lovely how-to here by Amber Dusick, who also happens to be the brilliant lady behind Parenting. Illustrated with Crappy Pictures. I am a big fan. You probably should be too.

Anyhoooo, back to the dolls: in addition to sort of looking like Lindsay and me, the dolls are dressed in tiny versions of costumes from 2 of our collaborative dance projects, seen in full size and context below. As you can see they each have an envelope. This is because part of our creative process for Edith and Eliza was to actually write and post letters to each other as “Edith” and “Eliza”, fictitious war brides we created to develop a story behind the dance. Some of the text from these letters was woven into the soundscore as a narration. Each letter snaps onto the dolls hand and actually has a wee letter in it. Because I am awesome. And obviously humble. But seriously, it was a really fulfilling creative process. The the doll making was a cherry-on-top project in the fun department.

The dances that the doll’s costumes were made to honour:

Susanne Chui and Jennifer Dallas in Whistling Matilda, a dance film by Rhys Brisbin, Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel, 2004. Photo: Linsday Zier-Vogel.
Susan Kendal in Edith and Eliza by Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel, 2006. Photo: Ted Zier-Vogel.

And lastly, our lovely selves with the dollies. Just before we went into the theatre for the premiere. Edith and Eliza and the costume dolls were the last major dance and crafty-sewing projects I worked on before becoming pregnant and a mommy. Feels like a lifetime ago, but not in a bad way. Just a “huh” way. Life was so utterly different then!

Susan Kendal and Lindsay Zier-Vogel outside the Winchester Street Theatre, Toronto. Showing off the costume dolls just before the premiere of our work Edith and Eliza, part of the Series 8:08 Season Finale, May 2006. Photo: Andrea Roberts.

Cheers to art, all kinds of it, making our lives so full. Happy Friday folks.

Springing and travelling and gathering myself

Folks, it’s spring, I smell it. I saw a Robin. I heard a Robin. I saw heaps of Crocuses. Rudi picked one, stopped the stroller of his own volition and worked it into Gene’s sleeping hand today. Is there anything better than dimpled fingers on the first crocus of spring?

My blog was quieter than usual last week because I was away from my desk and my everyday life. I took a trip across the country to Victoria with my wee-man Gene to stay with one of my best friends in the world, commencing a 3-day “vagilogue” as my husband so tactfully put it. My heart and mind got filled up with the true solid, friendship, the kind you can slip into easily, years folding up on one another, marrying now and “the last time.” I feel super buoyed up even if I’m physically exhausted from solo travel with a baby and too many time zones!

At 6-months Gene was a spectacular traveller. He happily boarded 4 planes in 5 days, did a lot of sleeping, nursing, watching airport lights, and peek-a-booing with friendly dudes behind us. He even met his uncle Dave for the first time on a strategically planned layover and he snuggled his Alberta Gran-E (obviously that’s her rapper name. She’s a granny + her name’s Elaine … you see where I’m going with this, my mom is so cool!). I also ran into 3 friends from my teenage life in Alberta 17 years ago — how nice for that to happen in real-alive-life rather than on social media, as much as I truly do love the book of faces and the twits.

And now I’m excited to be getting back into the groove of my life, surrendering happily to this utterly moment-to-moment existence as a full-time mom on maternity leave with 2 wee ones who’s also trying to get ready to hit the ground running with her own work — sewing, editing, choreographing — when the formal mat leave is up. I am working hard and gaining at my practice of simplicity in a moment, being present right where I am, which, to be totally honest, is usually: feeding, doing dishes, thinking about sweeping up the dust bunnies, reading (to clarify: not my own popular novel or work of complex theory but more of a librarian-reading-to-the-poo-joke-loving-masses), cooking, thinking that 5 months is too long to wait for a hair cut, walking to the park, colouring, thinking about blogging, playing, getting vomited and/or pooed on, thinking how long is it since I washed my hair, huh, and so on, you get the picture.

But I’m also keenly aware of the things I want and need to do to keep my adult self and creativity sharp. I keep them tucked in a brain-drawer during most of this extravaganza that is the current norm and at the end of the day, I take time to weigh what’s really necessary for the coming one, and to be reasonable with myself in order to have the personal wherewithal to meet the necessary and leave a little for the desired. Thus not a lot of action on my sewing-work front, but good plans for when the time arrives to make it all happen for reals. I live in hope good people, keep the faith!

Adventures in …

… BABY FOOD!

My little Gene-bean is now 6 1/2 months old. He’s been gnawing on veggies, toast crusts, fruit, hunks of meat, generally taste-testing anything we’re eating for the past few weeks. With his big brother Rudi, I did the widely perscribed and accepted intro to eating through a series of different cereal, but I found it oh so bland, boring, messy and altogther uninspired. So with Gene, we’re trying something different — he’s eating what we’re eating (within reason!).

I was making soup last week so I separated out some yams and turnips before fancying up my seasoning and blended them on their own. And then I borrowed a technique from my dear friend Angela: once blended, take a spoon and throw down “splats” (splat being the technical term in this highly technical and specific process, ahem) of blended veggies on a wax paper covered cookie sheet. Then freeze said splats, remove them from the sheet and have baby-sized splats stored in tupperware or freezer bags, ready to pop into a pot for a 2 minute warming and presto! Super gorgeous baby food. And I only have to make a batch every couple of weeks. Awesome. Here’s Gene’s first ever round of yams and turnips:

… TRAVELLING WITH A SOOTHER!

I was very judgemental about soothers/pacifiers/dummies before I had Rudi. Then I had Rudi. And he was a sucker. And anything that soothed my baby made sense, so I gave and a soother family we became. I feel just fine about it! To each his/her (pronouns just for you Angela, bloody capital-F Feminist!) own I truly feel. But I digress, this adventure is not about to soother or not to soother, it’s about how to hang onto the dang things if you use ’em.

Gene and I got on a plane 3 days ago. The day before, as I watched the soother fall out of his mouth and roll around and around my (obviously sparklingly clean, ahem ahem) dining room floor I remembered: I needed a soother holder, I had no time, I didn’t want to spend $9 on some ribbon and a clip, I sew. I added it up, looked around, saw my beloved sheep-and-black-sheep ribbon roll, some twill tape from a 4-pack of Beau’s beer and a sports lanyard of my husband’s.

I knew what I had to do.

The clip from the lanyard was quickly cut off, the ribbon sized up against Gene’s (unaturally, hilariously long) torso, the twill tape turned inside-out so as to appear plain and un-beer-related. I sewed, I came up with this:

It works like a charm and I got compliments all over the airport. Notes to future travelling self: 1. shoulda brought an order form, 2. need to take business cards.

… BEING QUIETLY AWESOME FOR YOURSELF!

Sometimes you need to add a little personal-awesome to your ensemble for yourself. A private joke for you. I like love adore Harry Potter.  I must not tell lies. So when I got an awesome faux patent diaper bag just before Gene was born, I knew I had to jazz the lameish logo up a bit. So naturally I sourced a Gryffindor patch and sewed that sucker right over the offending label.

And now I am infinitely cooler as I walk along with my bulging bag. Almost no one has noticed, but I love it. It’s like wearing leopard underwear, privately knowing that you’ve spiced, jazzed, expelliarmused it up a notch!

Dancing Semaphore

A late afternoon session at my sewing machine, buried in piles of netting, finishing the costume for my current dance project Semaphore:

I’m excited to be presenting this new wee solo Semaphore tonight and tomorrow, at a coffee house presentation put on by students of The School of Toronto Dance Theatre (my Alma mater). I’m friends with Megumi Kokuba, one of the current graduating students there, and we decided it would be fun to work on something together for her last student coffee house. We settled on Semaphore Flag systems — in both English and Japanese — as an inspiration point.We choreographed together, Megumi is performing and I’ve made the costume and set, comprised of giant paper airplanes (it was fun learning how to fold them online. I was never a big on making paper airplanes as a kid, so I had to look ’em up, now I’m hooked).

Megumi models the costume in studio B (I have spent many hours of my life in this room, taking class, rehearsing, teaching class, choreographing, sigh):

The work literally uses Semaphore Flag positions to spell out the words “remember” and “solitaire” in English and Japanese. We created choreography using the flag symbols as a starting point, tracing their lines through the space. We also walked the points used in semaphore flagging across the floor. Megumi and I worked fast (we spent just 3 hours in the studio together, yikes!) due to mad schedules for both of us and I’m really pleased with the result. The music we used is by Buck 65, a fantastic Canadian artist. Both his music and lyrics in the song Paper Airplane speak to me of longing and reaching across space and time. A beautiful, lilting song, it felt like the right fit for this dance.

Check out a 3 minute clip of Semaphore I’ve compiled on vimeo. It was filmed during the tech run, first time under lights and with the “living set” of 3 dancers that walk with paper airplanes across the space and around the dancer throughout the work.

Rudi and Gene (3 1/2 years and 6 months respectively) both came to some of our rehearsals and also sat through the technical and dress rehearsals — they are superstars with focus and patience that belie their years and months. They actually enjoyed sitting in the dark theatre (for the most part, Rudi was a bit freaked by the super-dark between dances and the cheering from the fellow performers attending rehearsal) and watching the magic unfold under the theatrical lighting. Rudi’s quiet little wonderings were so charming, “Where’s the music?” (a legit question, oh contemporary dance in silence!), and “I see ghost shadows!” (oh massive shadows thrown by theatre lights!). As a mom it’s so rewarding to still be able to practice my craft and involve my wee kids in what I do. I love that they won’t remember the first time they attended a theatre event, it’s just part of their lives.

Well, as we say in dance before the show, merde (instead of break a leg, that’s for the theatre folk) and may your weekend be gorgeous.

—

Click here for details on the show Coffee House: Dark Roast.

An Earthy Day

I am starting today with 2 things I love: soup making and contemporary dance. Food from the ground and feet on the ground — with consciousness and artistic purpose. A lovely way to enter the week.

I’ve got a pile of beautiful organic root veg (here they are enjoying the March sunshine!) begging to be made into soup. I shall oblige …

… and a deadline to have a wee solo completed for a performance this weekend. I’m working on a dance for Megumi Kokuba, a graduating student from The School of Toronto Dance Theatre‘s Professional Training Program. We’re collaborating on this solo for her, using both English and Japanese Flag Semaphore as a starting point for choreography. A dress is in the making and there are 3 huge paper airplanes as the set. I hope to share some video of the work later this week. In the meantime, feet-at-the-ready for final choreographic touches, which may or may not get settled on in the kitchen while soup making, just sayin’:

As per my post last Monday, I’ve spent the past week working on being conscious and present in the task at hand. Embracing or finding the simplicity of a job, a moment in time. And while soup-making and dance-making may seem disparate partners and dividers of attention, I think the cooking will provide some contemplation space for choreographic editing since the dance really is done, I just need to consider finishing touches, the editing of the movement and structure. And I think it’s working, this being present business; I seem to be a happier, more satisfied, less yell-y/cranky, exhausted and sad version of myself both as a momma and simply(!) as a being human. Happy week to all!

Tiny blankets & pillows

Today was the cold, windy, flying-snowflakes variety. Good for staying in, cozying up, and playing with Playmobil! There were pirates and adventurers staking out the cottagers, the lawn boy was lunching with the motocross racer and Mr. Snake got chewed by Gene … just another day.

An awesome perk to having kids is easily justifying the purchase and procurement of Playmobil, one of my favourite toys ever. I adore little things and toys, making set-ups with them and marveling at the clever detail.

Rudi and I decided that the cottaging couple needed blankets and pillows for when they’re out camping on starry nights, so that was the craft of the day:

A pocket full of thoughts …

I love/need to mull things over, weigh thoughts and ideas thoroughly (sometimes that means ad nauseum, I admit it!), check ’em out in different lights, size ‘er up. I don’t have a lot of time for that these days, but I grab my moments, my in-betweens — in bed as I fade out, nursing on the couch, walking to the park, making soup, riding up the stretch of highway between us and Nana&Papa’s house for weekend visits.

Which brings me to:

As mentioned in last Wednesday’s post, I’ve been meditating on simplicity. For me, right now, I think simplifying means not planning too much in a day, a week, a month, something I was practicing when Gene was under 3 months, but since then I’ve shifted into planning/hoping to do too much and often end the day frazzled, thinking I didn’t do enough, frustrated by the unstarted or unfinished projects staring at me with longing eyes. I set myself up for failure every time I plan too much in a day because my natural response to having too many things going is to panic and run for cover, figurative and literal. I stop thinking clearly or being able to prioritize and I just sit on the couch hoping the things I wanted to accomplish will get some of that Disney-princess-story-magic where they do themselves and have a catchy soundtrack and a subliminal message to boot!

So last week I started consciously planning to not plan a whole lot. I do the basics of my stay-at-home-mom day (which is a full-time job, I know I know, I grant that to others in my position but have a hard time feeling legitimate in it myself) and then I choose one thing beyond that that might, just might, get done. And funnily enough, I’ve actually been more effective since it seems this approach has alleviated the flight response. We’ll see if I can keep it up.

I’m consciously working at, reminding myself, to be present in the moment I’m in. It feels a little cringy and trite to write that down. And I am fully aware it’s not original. But it’s exactly what I need to know and practice right now. Actually Being Where I Am — in heart, head, body.

All my life I’ve been a planner, an anticipator. I think and yes, definitely worry, about the mythic “down-the-road” days … the big one for me right now is what happens when the mat leave is up in August? I just don’t know. And the lack of security in the not knowing freaks me out. But then I sabotage the lovely, suspended, necessary time that I am so privileged and deeply glad to have courtesy of this mat leave, particularly because I know so many women that don’t even have the option to have this year of partially-paid mothering. And when I am fully present, I experience such deep satisfaction, in everything really.

Someone wise recently reminded me that as a trained dancer, I’m practiced at being acutely present in the physical moment I’m in as a mover. I am working on translating some of that knowledge from studio to living room.

My 3-year-old is in a creative dance class on Saturday mornings. He loves it, skips down the street, has a buzzing, jumping energy in anticipation. He’s in class with two little friends of his whose moms and I have grown into wonderful friends through our kids. The class is only 45 minutes but we go for coffee during that time and honestly, Saturday coffee with these ladies has been a fantastic anchor point in my quiet maternity-leave life. In a period without a lot of adult-only interaction, I revel in those minutes of catch-up, giggling and gossiping and trading stories. We’ve decided to keep it up once classes are out, because somehow knowing that that visit is set gives the week a marker, a turning point of shared-experience. I must say, I like having a regular ladies-visit in my calendar. I highly recommend.

Last week I got a joyful email on a sunny morning from a lovely friend with the following link she was inspired by. And I think it’s worth sharing. Thanks to the writer Amelia Olson,

Click for the whole thing.

This bit feel particularly relevant, not directly but something that I often sense, and subsequently temper myself because of:
“As a woman, I feel continually shhh’ed.  Too sensitive.  Too mushy.  Too wishy washy. Blah blah.  Don’t let someone steal your tenderness.  Don’t allow the coldness and fear of others to tarnish your perfectly vulnerable beating heart.  Nothing is more powerful than allowing yourself to truly be affected by things.”

I’m going to keep feeling deeply. Cheers.

Rearview Fridays: A Tale of Two Quilts

Today’s Rearview Friday title today comes to you courtesy of my amazing cleverness at 3am while contemplating my inability to actually sleep while the baby is sleeping and thinking of blog titles to pass the time/lull me back to sleep. Ah-thank-you. As a tangent, I feel I should add that A Tale of Two Cities is my favourite Dickens tale and one of my all time favourite books. It captured my 16-year-old heart when it was assigned for a grade 11 Social Studies assignment. But this post is not about Dickens, or cities for that matter. It’s about 2 quilts and my first “grown up” knitting adventure.

As a Waldorf student, I learned to knit in Grade 1. I made a multi-coloured Gnome with a long body (we’re talking upwards of 18 inches) and a pointed hat, a triumph for any 6 year old. Not sure where that gnome got to after all these years, probably tending a fir tree in Alberta and smoking something fragrant on a mossy log … anyhoo, from there I knitted this and that as a kid and knew the basics — knit, purl, basic increase and decrease, I could knit a scarf or a mitt or a leg-warmer if pressed.

But by the time I was 30 and expecting my first son Rudi, it had been years since I’d knit. I had a long daily commute on the subway and thought that I’d really like to knit my baby a blanket. I discovered Knitty and Ravelry and the amazing online knitting world. There were multitudes of tutorials on YouTube to learn any stitches I didn’t know, so I waded in! I bought beautiful yellow washable wool at Romni Wools in Toronto [aside: a totally amazing wool store in Toronto, if you visit here and love wool you must go!]

I found a lovely pattern and even taught myself to cable! It came out beautifully. Then I took the washable part too literally and washed it in a machine. When I took it out, the centre bit of the machine had literally chewed my hard work up. It was so bad I laughed, learned a valuable lesson, and thought I’d keep it as a car-blankie and a reminder to be gentle on hand knits in the future.

Insanity or stubbornness prevailed and I decided to start again and whup the butt of that blanket project. I bought more wool, I did it again. I prevailed! Here’s the one that’s been bundled around both my wee boys. The blocking has been pulled beyond recognition so that it’s almost square from all the wrapping and stretching around tiny bodies. it’s been washed a number of times without incident — even in the washer on the most delicate of delicate cycles.

The pattern was free and easy to follow, even for a relatively green knitter. Find it at For the Love of Yarn. I followed the pattern exactly as given (with the noted corrections on Feb. 5, 2007).

 

Quilting Challenge: February

My 2012 Quilting Challenge (to myself) continues today with February’s result. It’s a little apple! I’m pleased with the simplicity of it, the detached leaf.

Simple.

I’m working on simple in lots of places — sewing, walls, dancing, writing, art, teaching, choreographing, mothering, being. Simply being where I am. I tend towards complicated, tangled. I need to unravel, unfold, see more space, feel more space, give and have more space. Perhaps that’s cryptic, but it’s what I’ve got for today. More on that soon I imagine.

And here the little apple sits beside January’s leaf: